#I actually wrote a script for an idea like this mid-2020 but i never did anything with it and now its on my old computer so i cant

[possessable]

here's preemptive proof that I'm NOT just doing an amazing digital circus knockoff for when i inevitably make a "large strange glitchy area that a bunch of people accidentally find themselves in with no memories" series except it's a convenience store instead of a circus

[adamwatchesmovies]

Bewitched (2005)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

During the Mid ‘00s, there was a brief trend of taking popular television series from the ‘60s and onwards and re-imagining/comedically interpreting them as films. Bewitched must be one of the worst examples. It’s unfunny, wastes the talents of its stars and squanders its potential.

After a series of box-office flops, Jack Wyatt (Will Ferrell) agrees to play the role of Darrin in a remake of the 1960s sitcom Bewitched. He insists on being the show's star, which means the producers must cast a nobody in the role of his witch wife, Samantha. Isabel Bigelow (Nicole Kidman), an actual witch, sees the role as an opportunity to step away from the world of sorcery she’s grown tired of but soon becomes displeased with her narcissistic co-star.

When in a leading role, Will Ferrell and his comedic style tends to be polarizing. Either audiences think he's a riot, or they can't stand him. In this case, neither camp will have any fun. It isn’t that he’s everdoing his schtick. Actually, the only laughs you get come when director Nora Ephron allows him to let loose. Even then, she lets him go on for too long half the time but he actually succeeds in generating chuckles, unlike the script Nora co-wrote with her sister, Delia Ephron. Steve Carell has a brief role and he’s annoying. Michael Caine as Isabel’s father is slightly amusing but nothing he does goes anywhere and the smiles you get when he's on-screen come from the actor’s charisma, not his lines. Isabel’s newfound friends (Kristin Chenoweth and Heather Burns) are useless, Jack’s sycophant producer Ritchie (Jason Schwarztman) is irritating. You don’t even get a funny talking puppet cat. If the movie had been funny, the gag where Isabel literally rewinds time would’ve been amusing. It isn’t, so all you can do is think about how stupid she must be for forgetting about this spell every other time.

I saved my complaints about the magic for now, because it’s what ultimately sinks the ship. Overall, the fact that Isabel can cast spells means NOTHING. While on TV, the production crew use special effects to make her “mother” Endora (Shirley MacLain) appear. Jack’s lack of charisma makes everyone hate him and love Isabel. She didn’t really have to audition for the role - she just gets the part because she can wiggle her nose. She doesn’t even want to use magic so she doesn’t except in a few scenes you could edit out or turn into fantasy/dream sequences. You could’ve made this movie as just two people on the set of a TV series but that would've forced Bewitched to ditch many of its favourite “gag”. See, Isabel was raised by witches and warlocks, so she has no idea what the Muggle world is like. In fact, she barely understands English. She’s so dumb she depends on her spellcasting to get through the day when she isn’t trapped in a standard, boring rom-com.

Bewitched throws enough darts toward its target to score a couple of hits. For viewers, they come at a steep price. On top of the poorly written and conceived story, the lousy direction, and the non-sensical or confusing aspects (I still can’t figure out if Carole Shelley’s character is Isabel’s real aunt coincidentally called Clara or a character from the show somehow brought to life), this is a romantic comedy that’s never the least bit romantic. Will Ferrell and Nicole Kidman have charm as individuals but there are no sparks between them. Bewitched deserves to be burned at the stake. (October 26, 2020)

[abysscontemporary]

The 2020 Comedy Club Shutdown

The comedy club shutdown of 2020 may one day be known as the Great Vanishing Act of the Coronavirus Era. The disappearance of stand-up comics and live audiences, engaged in the conjuring up of mirth and laughter at intimate indoor venues, has brought a halt to a social economy, marked by the exchange of wit and performative delivery for levity and amnesia of ill fortune.

If you think this opening paragraph is unlike the set-up of a live, onstage comedy bit, you’re right.

It illustrates the situation live comedy is in today.

The spoken word, brought to you live and in-person, is very much different from and livelier than the written or mediated word, and the absence of live stand-up comedy puts into sharp relief how its vibrancy is noticeably different from what has succeeded it (e.g., essays, audio and/or video shows, posts on social media, etc.)  Live comedy and its brilliance are sorely missed.

To take a closer look at the distinctions between the conditions of comedy before mid-March 2020 and the lockdown that came afterwards, this writer conferred with a selection of New York City-based comedians in August 2020.  They reflected on what their concepts and practices were like before the pandemic and what their outlooks are for the future.  All were elegant in expressing how the art of unseriousness is serious business.  Furthermore, they portrayed what it’s like to go from being specifically a stand-up comic to being – more broadly – a comedy artist.

What was your routine before the COVID-19 lockdown in terms of writing, rehearsing, performing, pursuing projects, and booking opportunities?

SASHA SRBULJ:  Before the lockdown, I would typically conduct writing sessions with my closest comedy buddies towards the beginning of the week and perform one to three shows at various spots in Manhattan throughout rest of the week.  In between all of this, there would be dozens of discussions with other comics; we’d brainstorm, rehearse, and generate booking opportunities for each other.  This weekly cascade of stuff could all fall under the rubric, “pursuing projects.” Also, by hanging out together during the week, we’d find ways of spurring creativity and ideas.

Since the start of the lockdown, almost all of these in-person activities have stopped, and they’ve become much more rare because the clubs are closed.  We do try to maintain as much online and text-messaging contact as possible - but that's only one element, and it can’t replace the whole experience.

VERONICA GARZA:  Before the lockdown, I was performing almost every day, doing shows or going to open mics. If I wasn’t at a show I was booked on or at a mic, I was supporting a show.  Also, each and every day, I would try to write or to come up with at least three premises to work on.  January and February 2020 were actually really busy months for me, and I was very excited to see where this year would go for me in comedy.

EMILY WINTER:  Before Covid, I'd spend all day writing at home for my various writing jobs and script pursuits, then I'd do standup at night.  I'd usually write new jokes on my way to shows or just work out new ideas when I got on stage.

CAROLYN BUSA:  I’m realizing a lot of my routines happened for me on the train, and that’s the same for writing.  Either on the way to a gig or on the way home from one.  Those were always the times I was most inspired.  Especially after experiencing how a joke hit.

After gigs, I would usually come home from a spot and fall asleep with my notebook in my bed, trying to perfect a bit about submissive sex right before bedtime.  

The same goes for seeing a good show.  I’d know a show was really good when I’d come home inspired and want to write a bunch of new premises.

Booking opportunities kinda happened naturally at countless weekly and monthly shows.  Surely, some months were slower than others.  (Cute, how I thought THAT was slow compared to now). During those times, I focused more on writing; my own show, Side Ponytail; or pursuing open mics.

I feel like I always have and always will have a million project ideas spinning in my head, but, without money or deadlines behind most of them, I complete and pursue them more slowly than I’d like to.

DARA JEMMOTT:  I was really just moving and flying by the seat of my pants - taking any and every gig to make it work.  I would do most of my writing on stage.  With working 10 hours a day and then doing two to three shows a night, it was very difficult to sit down and find time to write.  However, quarantine has allowed for me to write way more and in different areas.

MARC GERBER:  I never made a set time to sit down and write, the way a novelist or a journalist might.  My jokes come to me spontaneously, either through stream-of-consciousness - while daydreaming, that is - or in conversation with others.

My jokes generally start off as amorphous drafts.  I have either a punchline that needs a strong opening premise or a premise that will need a strong punchline.  About 10% to 20% of the bits that I come up with make it to the stage.

Before the lockdown, I would meet with comedian friends, and we’d polish and improve our jokes together. I’d rehearse only before a big show – such as one for recording an album or headlining a major gig.  By this point, doing a 10- to 15-minute set had become rote.  If I had a brand new bit, I might rehearse it in isolation several times before it performing on stage.

I typically don’t pursue projects or booking opportunities.  Primarily, I am reluctant to ask people for opportunities, unless they are big, and I am ready for them.  For example, I recorded my first album in November after aggressively pursuing a record label and convincing them to produce the album and release it. (Happily, the album debuted at Number One on the iTunes comedy chart and it’s been on heavy rotation on a major Sirius station).  In terms of getting spots and other smaller opportunities, I generally take what I’m offered if they’re legitimate.  However, I don’t ask for much, and I don’t implore people to put me on their shows. I think my approach is tactful.

ROBYN JAFFE:  I stepped on stage for the first time just nine months before the comedy clubs and the city shut down, and I quickly became hooked.

I’m a teacher by day, and, over the summer, I was planning to explore more open mics, bringer shows, and auditions because the comedy scene doesn’t lend itself to the preferred early bedtime of someone, like myself, who works in a school during the rest of the year.

How have you responded to the lockdown?  Did you initially see it as brief hiatus?  Did you make it an opportunity to pivot to new projects?  What have you missed most about stand-up comedy, so far?

SASHA SRBULJ:  The lockdown was a shock, and, within the first three months, the only shows I did were on Zoom.  I've since seen people doing park shows, parking lot shows - anything to fill the void. Aside from Zoom shows, I've done shows on Twitch, which was new for me.

I’ve done game-type, interactive audience shows.  (There are online games now that are comedy-centric.  An algorithm throws out some phrases and premises, and then, several comics try to make jokes out of them. The audience votes, participates, comments, etc.)

It's a format that provides a different kind of audience feedback.  On Zoom shows, you generally can't hear the audience and mostly can't see them; so, it's hard to gauge and impossible to improvise much.  The Zoom shows are improving, though.  Even in five months, there's been tremendous progress.

I've pivoted to writing more - both bits for the stage and for writing in general.  The time has also given me an opportunity to strategize the narrative for my next special/album.  Planning basically.  It's an opportunity to think things through deliberately.

What I've missed most about comedy was my friends.  I thought it would be the laughter or the crowds and my own douchey desire to be at the center of attention; but what I actually miss the most is my friends.

(Note:  My douchey desire to be at the center of attention is running in close contention.)

VERONICA GARZA:  Overall, I’ve been generally concerned about my health, so I’ve done what I can to stay inside and avoid crowds.

I took the whole thing as an opportunity to work on other stuff.  I finally made a full draft of my solo show about my dating men and even performing it over Zoom for two festivals.  I have worked on an entire new half-hour of comedy.  I’ve also considered this as an opportunity to work on scripts I’d intended to write.

I miss performing live. I miss seeing the audience - or even the lack thereof - and figuring out what I’ll do on stage.  I miss seeing other comics and having that one drink after the show where we bitch about a show or a venue, but also just catch up. I noticed shows popping up randomly in New York City, and, honestly, I don’t think it’s safe enough for them yet.

EMILY WINTER:  I absolutely thought it would be a brief hiatus, and I was excited.  As both a writer and a standup, I feel like I never have enough time to dedicate to many of my writing projects.  I saw this as the Universe forcing me to concentrate on my writing projects for a while.  Since coronavirus, I've written two new pilots, rewrote an old one, wrote a movie with my husband, and got a book deal.  I’m about halfway through the book-writing process.  My two new pilots still need a lot of work, though.

I do miss stand-up. I miss the feeling of connection that you have when a set is going well. There's just this beautiful buzz in the air.  It's magical.

CAROLYN BUSA:  Oh brother. This is THE question isn’t it? Are you waiting for me to say, “God, I miss the mic!!  Get me on the stage!  My blood and bones need it!!  Punchlines! Laughter!  Applause!”  Not quite.

I definitely did see it as a brief hiatus but kinda like how I adjust to traveling super quickly. (Every hotel or Air BnB feels like home within hours.)  After a short time, NOT getting on stage felt freakishly normal.  It kinda freaked me out and made the last ten years of my life feel like a fever dream. Maybe I'm already on a ventilator.

I, of course, miss having a great set, applause, and people telling me I'm funny.  I miss the thrill of finding the line that makes whatever wild idea I have relate to the majority of a crowd.  Or, if not relate, at least understand where I'm coming from.

I also miss parts of the socialization that came with comedy.  My good friends, those that I'd see every now and then, the bartenders, the Barry’s!  My social life was my day job and comedy, both of which are now gone.

Admittedly, there's a part of me that feels relief.  The hustle has really beaten me up, so to kinda put that aside does not feel horrible. I thought I'd have more pockets of success at this point in my comedy career, and, even though I really like who I am as a comedian, not having to prove it for a few months feels ok.

So,...(shrugs shoulders)   I'm still writing, and I'm still making goofy videos, but, more importantly, I'm really trying to figure out what makes me completely happy.

DARA JEMMOTT:  At first, I responded to the lockdown with annoyance and fear, and, then, I enjoyed the fact I got to sit down for a second.  Afterwards, I had to grieve a life I once knew.

I am getting to enjoy doing nothing because who knows when that will come again?  I did realize that maintaining my mentals would be a top priority and that it was important for me to find projects to distract and dive into. So, I wrote my first pilot.  Never would I have had time to do that before.

MARC GERBER:  I initially saw the lockdown as a brief hiatus.  Fortunately, I had my album coming out, and it gave me something to promote and look forward to.  The success of the album’s release was encouraging, and I was able to do a number of online shows to promote it.

Since then, I have focused mainly on my other career as a psychologist, as the online shows are somewhat underwhelming, and I have been living outside of the city and thus, not getting the opportunity to do any of the outdoor shows that clubs and independent producers have been putting on.

What I miss most about stand-up comedy is the camaraderie of my comedian friends. Of course, there’s also nothing better than making 150 people laugh on a Friday night.

ROBYN JAFFE:  I wanted to keep up with comedy-writing and joke-sharing during the lockdown, so I started a Twitter account.  I also began to post a video to my Instagram account every Sunday night, and I call it “Pajamedy Sunday.”  I may not have been able to get on stage all of these months, but I’m trying to make people laugh during a difficult time.

I did one Zoom show but otherwise haven’t performed.

What do you envision yourself doing before comedy venues fully re-open?  After comedy venues fully re-open, what do you most look forward to doing?  When live stand-up comedy fully returns, what do you expect the dynamic will look like between you and your live audience?

SASHA SRBULJ:  While comedy clubs are closed, I hope I use my time productively.  Aside from ironing out some aspects of my set, there's a writing project I want to try out and see if it has legs.

After comedy venues fully re-open, I am most looking forward to performing and seeing the community come back, which I hope it does.  This lockdown has lasted long enough that things may not just snap back into place like before.  I'm hoping that the thirst for comedy and just fun in general helps bring the community back quickly.

Frankly, until we have full herd immunity - either via a vaccine or just pandemic spread - I can't imagine things going back to the way they were.  Brick-and-mortar comedy clubs are physically intimate spaces, especially in New York City, and laughter is an involuntary response that can spread aerosols. Unfortunately, comedy clubs, along with bars and night clubs, will be among the last establishments to reopen.

In the meantime, outdoor venues, virtual shows, and socially distanced shows are our only way. Once it's safe again, I think people will resume their lives as before.  It may take a while for 100% of the people to be comfortable again, but, once the green light is given, most people will revert to the norm.

I initially thought this would permanently scar an entire generation of people and scare them from social interaction.  However, as it turns out, the hardest thing about this crisis was getting people NOT to socially interact.  So, I think when it will finally be safe, people will come back.

With both the positive and negative aspects of what this means, “You can't change people.”

VERONICA GARZA:  If comedy venues even survives, I’m sure it will be a while before I return to live performances.  I very much look forward to performing, but I also don’t want to rush to return to the stage and putting myself at risk.

I’m not that selfish. When live comedy returns, I’m sure it will be lovely.  This current pause we are in has made everyone eager for some laughter, so I look forward to when we can safely do it in-person.  As for now, I’m enjoying doing it safely over Zoom.

EMILY WINTER:  I've been hesitant to perform at outdoor shows because I'm so immersed in my writing right now.  I'm going to hold out a little longer while I re-work pilots and finish my book.

Once venues re-open, I'm looking forward to that brilliant feeling of connecting with strangers and feeling the collective energy in the room.  I think that will be more difficult since I imagine people will be sitting farther apart.  It's hard to create one unified energy when people aren't physically close together, and I worry about that.

CAROLYN BUSA:  I will continue to think about and explore how to use my creativity to maintain my happiness!  Writing, when I'm inspired; creating, when I want; and exploring other paths, possibly.

I've been dipping my toe back into writing stand-up, but it's been SLOW.  I don't want to pressure myself too much or even say, “Put pressure on myself.”  (Oh god, I hate brains).

I haven't done any outdoor performances, but, from what I hear, people are happy to hear jokes and happy to laugh.  I'd expect that would be the same for when comedy fully returns.

I honestly don't know what to predict though.  Every time I try to think of what something in the future will look like, I suddenly need a nap.  My hope with this worldwide slowdown is that, in the future, comedy can be separated from those who want to hustle and work hard from 8 pm to 1am and those who want to do it from 5 pm to 11 pm.

DARA JEMMOTT:  I'm really not thinking about "fully-re-open" and what that looks like or when that will come.  I'm not going to put my life on hold and resume it after quarantine.  Folks got to learn to live their life regardless and make the best of the situation.

I've been doing plenty of Zoom shows and outdoor shows, so I expect the dynamic to be the same. Uneasily and with trepidation, I’ve been happy to be out of the house and around people.  But, "after quarantine" - I stopped using those words a long time ago.

MARC GERBER:  I have been listening to the experts (e.g. virologists, epidemiologists) and not the politicians since this began.  I knew by mid- to late February that comedy venues were going to close down.  Before one of my shows in late February I posted, “Come see my while you still can!”  Many people thought I was a joking, but I was being deadly serious.

According to the experts, this is going to be a long fight, particularly because of how poorly the federal response was in controlling the virus.  I think comedy is going to come back very gradually.

Before the lockdown I was getting regularly booked at some of the best clubs in New York City. However, there are many, many comics ahead of me on the seniority list.  I believe that for the next several years, if not longer, I will have fewer opportunities to perform than I’d had before the lockdown.  I will have to find a way to engage myself creatively without getting on stage as much. That might include podcasting and writing. I am still figuring it out.

I feel fortunate to have a stable career as a psychologist. While comedians won’t be in high demand for a long time, psychologists certainly will be.

ROBYN JAFFE:  Now, I attend comedy shows outside to enjoy live comedy and shamelessly talk to comics before or after the show. I hope to pick up where I left off whenever that becomes possible!

Comedy can be transformational, and these stand-up comics are stand-up people.  Reading what they’ve said suggests that hearing what they will say on one stage or another will be something to look forward to.

Carolyn Busa:  http://www.carolynbusa.com Veronica Garza:  https://twitter.com/veros_broke Marc Gerber:  https://800pgr.lnk.to/GerberIN Robyn Jaffe:  https://twitter.com/rjaffejokes Dara Jemmott:  http://www.instagram.com/chocolatejem and  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/comedians-for-hire/id1448386062 Sasha Srbulj:  https://sashasrbulj.com/ Emily Winter:  https://www.emilywintercomedy.com

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY Keneely and Farrell are detectives with the LAPD vice squad. Although they show great talent for breaking up prostitution and drug rings, many of these enterprises are protected by crime boss Carl Rizzo, who exerts his influence throughout the city and the department. Evidence is altered before trial, colleagues refuse to help with basic police work, and the detectives are pushed to pursue other cases—mostly stakeouts on gay bars and public lavatories. After personally confronting Rizzo, Keneely and Farrell are brutally beaten while investigating one of his prostitutes. Frustrated but without any legal options, they resort to harassing Rizzo and his establishments, warding off customers and following his family around the city. Soon, Rizzo is rushed to the hospital for a heart condition. Realizing that he also used a medical emergency as an alibi during a previous drug sale, Keneely and Farrell head to the hospital and discover that drugs are trading hands there, hidden in flower pots. Rizzo escapes in an ambulance, while Keneely and Farrell make chase in another. The chase ends when both ambulances crash; although Keneely holds Rizzo at gunpoint, Rizzo laughs that the evidence against him is circumstantial—and, at most, will result in a light sentence.

The film ends on a freeze-frame of Keneely’s face as Rizzo dares him to shoot. In a voice-over, Keneely applies to an employment agency, claiming that he doesn’t know why he left his job at the LAPD—finally concluding that he “needed a change.”

DEVELOPMENT/PRODUCTION Robert Chartoff wanted to make another film about vice cops after The New Centurions. They hired Peter Hyams to write and direct one off the back of the success of his TV movie, Goodnight, My Love. “I’d made a TV movie of the week that people had liked, and people started coming after me,” he recalled. “The producers Robert Chartoff and Irwin Winkler came to me and said they wanted to do a film about vice cops. I said okay, and spent about six months researching it.” Hyams later said “like a journalist, I went around to New York, Boston, Chicago and Los Angeles and spoke with hookers, pimps, strippers and cops and DAs. Every episode in the film was true.”

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In February 1973 Ron Leibman was cast as Gould’s partner. However he was soon fired. Hyams says, “It turned out the contrast between Ron and Elliott Gould was not the same contrast between Robert Blake and Elliott, so it was suggested we go with Robert and I listened.” Gould says that while he respected Leibman as an actor it was he who suggested Leibman be replaced. “I just had a sense that I don’t know if he’s the right partner for me.”

Filming started in February 1973. The film was shot over 35 days.

“United Artists was a dream studio,” said Hyams. “Once they thought the script and the people making the film were good, they really didn’t intrude. They were very encouraging, and fabulous for filmmakers.”

https://abcnews.go.com/video/embed?id=60298033

Gould was cast here after writer/director Peter Hyams saw him and his attitude on The Dick Cavett Show. He wore Converse low-tops and for some reason took one of them off mid-interview. “He [Cavett] sort of made a joke with the audience that my feet had an odor, which they didn’t. I was really taken back and so I insisted that Dick Cavett take his shoe off.” The host declined, but Gould pressed saying that he was offended and wanted them to be on equal footing. Ron Leibman was originally cast as Gould’s sidekick – “a fabulous actor, one of our finest and best actors” – but Gould had him replaced. “I just had a sense that I don’t know if he’s the right partner for me,” he says. He went to see David Picker, the head of United Artists, and softly suggested as such, and Picker replied “I knew it! I knew it! When Ron Leibman plays tennis with my 11 year-old daughter he hits the ball back to her like a rocket!” He went on to suggest either Peter Boyle or Robert Blake.

Hyams suggested Garry Marshall for the character of Carl Rizzo, but the idea apparently fell on deaf ears – including Gould’s. It was nixed, but in retrospect Gould sees his error. “Garry Marshall in that part would be genius, would be a total fucking surprise,” he says. The role instead went to Allen Garfield, “and Allen, bless him, Allen is such a good actor but completely predictable.”

Peter Hyams Directing Busitng

Interview with Director Peter Hyams

Do you think your first theatrical feature BUSTING benefited from your documentary and journalistic experience? Peter Hyams: It came in handy in terms of my years of research. Before I wrote BUSTING I spent six months on the road going to L.A., Boston, Chicago and New York, talking to cops, hookers, pimps and the real people. The fact is that every single episode in BUSTING was based on something that actually happened. Whatever training I had as a self-impressed asshole reporter, the most important thing I learned was research. There was a great satirist called Tom Lehrer who wrote very funny and perverse songs. One of his quotes that I always remember was about Nicolai Lobachevsky. He said ”I’ll never forget the time I met the great Lobachevsky. It was he who taught me the secret of great writing -plagiarise. Only don’t call it ‘plagiarise’, call it ‘research’. ” My approach to a story is always research, and then try to make drama out of it.

What fascinated you about the world of vice cops to make the film? Peter Hyams: An esoteric and artful thing – I was asked to write a movie about vice cops. The producers were Irwin Winkler and Robert Chartoff, who had done a very successful film for Columbia called THE NEW CENTURIONS (1972). They caught me at that point where I was about to break into features. GOODNIGHT, MY LOVE had gotten more attention than it deserved and was incredibly highly praised. Irwin came to me and said ”We would like you to make a movie for us. ” Irwin was spellbinding and terrific, the greatest film school a young filmmaker could ever attend. The charter was to make a movie about vice cops.

Was it difficult to cast the leads? Peter Hyams: Elliott Gould was at his apogee, and he wanted to do it. He had made MASH (1970) and GETTING STRAIGHT (1970). United Artists was a dream studio. Once they thought the script and the people making the film were good, they really didn’t intrude. They were very encouraging, and fabulous for filmmakers. David Picker was head of UA at the time.

How close did Ron Leibman come to playing the Robert Blake part? Peter Hyams: Pretty close. We weren’t sure if it was going to be Ron or somebody else. It turned out the contrast between Ron and Elliott Gould was not the same contrast between Robert Blake and Elliott, so it was suggested we go with Robert and I listened.

Was the shoot-out in the market a learning curve for you? It’s one of the great action scenes. Peter Hyams: I spent a lot of time plotting that thing out. This was not the days of Steadicam, where you could run around and do what you wanted. You had bigger cameras and all those movements on dolly tracks where things were upstairs and downstairs. I just drew out the way I wanted to do it.

How long did you spend filming the scene? Peter Hyams: The whole film was a 35 day schedule. We spent maybe a day or two on the shootout. The more you’re prepared and the more everyone else is prepared, the quicker things go.

CONCLUSION The film was criticized for homophobia on the grounds of its depictions of gay characters and the attitudes of the lead characters towards them. In an essay for The New York Times, journalist and gay rights activist Arthur Bell condemned the film for derogatory language used by characters to describe homosexuals, as well as a scene in a gay bar that he called “exploitative, unreal, unfunny and ugly” for its presentation of gay stereotypes. Hyams defended this on the ground it was accurate to the milieu depicted.

CAST/CREW Directed Peter Hyams

Produced Robert Chartoff Irwin Winkler

Written Peter Hyams

Elliott Gould as Det. Michael Keneely Robert Blake as Det. Patrick Farrell Allen Garfield as Carl Rizzo Antonio Fargas as Stephen Michael Lerner as Marvin

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY money-into-light. Wikipedia

Busting (1974) Retrospective SUMMARY Keneely and Farrell are detectives with the LAPD vice squad. Although they show great talent for breaking up prostitution and drug rings, many of these enterprises are protected by crime boss Carl Rizzo, who exerts his influence throughout the city and the department.